


Public Displays of Affection

by rainbow_letters



Series: The Underground [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 19:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12966489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbow_letters/pseuds/rainbow_letters
Summary: Load your Oyster cards and prepare yourself for inevitable delays, as I introduce you to my new series 'The Underground'. This collection will feature one-shots of our Consultant Detective and his Pathologist on or around London's infamous public transportation system (usually at Sherlock's despair.)This first instalment does what it says on the tin (or in the title). Sherlock is less than happy about having to take the tube, but he is accompanied by the lovely Molly Hooper, who tries to convince him not all is bad...





	Public Displays of Affection

**Author's Note:**

> This first instalment does what it says on the tin (or in the title). Sherlock is less than happy about having to take the tube, but he is accompanied by the lovely Molly Hooper, who tries to convince him not all is bad...

"This is precisely the reason I avoid public transport." Sherlock grumbled as he narrowed his hostile eyes to a couple heavy petting in direct view from his seat. 

"Wow, they are really going for it. Omg did he just slip his hand into-" Molly leaned forward beside him to take a closer look at the sickening sight before them.

"Yes. Now get me off of this god forsaken train." Sherlock sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"Oh, don't be such a spoilt sport. That traffic accident would have added another forty minutes onto our journey and we promised John we would pick Rosie up by two." Molly punched him playfully on the arm, before quickly checking the time on her phone. 

"John would have understood." Sherlock spoke more to the speckled floor, or more accurately to the dozens of pairs of shoes that covered it. 

"That's not the point Sherlock, we promised we would be there and there we will be. I still don't understand your hatred for one of the best transport systems in the world." She grumbled from beside him, as she folded her arms against her bright red roll neck jumper. 

"Look around you, there are approximately fifty-eight reasons why and the fifty ninth is not far behind if those two don't stop their disgusting public display of affection. Not forgetting this lovely little added feature." He pointed distinctly to the 'No signal' sign on his phone. 

"Sherlock, stop acting like you've lost a limb. Why don't you try to look at it from a glass half full perspective?" Molly asked rather exasperatedly as her eyes glanced to the faces of the people nearest them in the carriage. "People watching, it's so fasc-" 

"Predictable and boring." He interrupted her and threw his head back like a toddler on the cusp of a tantrum. "I could tell you the life stories of every being in this carriage and seriously all of them, bar the old woman in the Aztec print leggings, are as thrilling as a theme park with no rides." Just as the last words left his lips, the girl who currently had her boyfriend's tongue rammed down her throat let out a lustful groan. "That's it I'm going to say something-" He was about to thrust himself out of his seat, when a pair of arms wrapped around the bulky sleeve of his coat, anchoring him to his seat. 

"No. You. Are. Not." Molly hissed quietly into his ear. Her grip eased slowly, convinced he wasn't about to make a show of himself in front of a full tube carriage. He noticed a slight chill with the absence of her body no longer in his personal space. "You have to live a little, Sherlock. Are you seriously telling me you have never had a romantic fondle in public?" She had now returned back into her seat beside him, but she still eyed him with an annoyed expression. 

"Excuse me? A romantic fondle?" He glanced down at her briefly, his dark eye brow sprung up briefly at her question. 

"You know, like a kiss or a little bum squeeze." He scoffed at her remark and readjusted his already perfectly adjusted scarf. "Not even a hand hold?" She persisted, but Sherlock decided to dust off invisible crumbs from his Belstaff. 

"Molly, why are you asking questions that you already know the answer to?" He continued to fumble with any loose article of clothing on his person, still not meeting her gaze. 

"I don't know, I thought maybe you'd surprise me." She spoke, disheartened yet not surprised by his response. 

"Well, I'm sorry I am a disappointment to you." He feigned a tone of hurt to his voice, expecting the woman beside him to bite at his characteristic sarcasm. Instead, silence filled the tube for a few moments, the only sound came from the clack of the train on the tracks and the tinny sound of indie rock blaring from a teenage girl's cheap earphones. 

"I think I could stretch to a hand hold and that would be my limit." Sherlock spoke to the air straight in front of him. Molly responded with a light huff and her head hung down to hide her failure to remain annoyed at him. The left side of his lips stretched slowly into a smirk; he knew all was forgiven. 

"Now, I would say we have approximately twelve minutes left and coincidentally that is just enough time for me to inspect a section of my mind palace. I may as well find some form of sanctuary on this Hell worthy train ride. " Sherlock mumbled low enough for only Molly to hear. 

"Fine, you go on into Dreamland. I'll nudge you when we're close." She stretched beside him and proceeded to inspect the faces of the passengers in the carriage. 

Sherlock's eyes slipped close as he ventured deep into his thoughts. He hadn't lied when he said he was 'inspecting' a section of his mind palace, he just didn't clarify which part. In all honesty this section was unnamed but as soon as he neared that door he was enveloped in a feeling of warmth and security. Mrs Hudson's beef stew and dumplings, meeting John for the first time and a lot of Rosie's first moments. 

Most recently this section had started to be infiltrated by Molly. She had always had a strong presence here and like the other's they were always happy and memorable moments. But strangely random snippets of her seemed to appear here now, ever since that event in January. Occasions that had no reference to a particular happy memory or place. It was a collection of snapshots that in the bigger picture created a masterpiece. The way she laughed as she watched yet another cat video online, curled up in John's chair. The focus on her face during an autopsy before she registered he was stood in front of her. The way she would push that particular strand of hair behind her right ear. He paraded down by each one of these strange but wonderful memories in his growing collection. The latest, from only half an hour ago showcased her on the platform of Baker Street Underground station in her bright red jumper and a white frilled, mid-thigh length skirt. She had run over to stroke a golden Cockapoo puppy that proceeded to jump all over her lap, adamant to lay as many licks as it could land on her face. Molly looked as young and as carefree as she ever had in that moment. 

He was suddenly lifted from his safe space and back to the overcrowded carriage, when the centre of his palms suddenly sparked at the intrusion of delicate finger tips tentatively drawing vertical lines against his skin. His hands instantly started to sweat at the uninvited close contact and the realisation as to who was the instigator. He gulped hard to try and compose himself and he shot a glance to the cause of his discomfort. Molly stared straight ahead but the corner of her mouth was crooked. 

Sensing his obvious discomfort, but encouraged by the fact his hands still remained as they were, and not burrowed like a rabbit running from a fox into the safety of the inside of his Belstaff. She pressed her fingers in between the spaces of his own and embedded them softly to the skin beside each of his hardened knuckles. His fingers remained stuck out straight and awkward as if he hadn't acknowledged or registered her bold action, even though he couldn't tear his eyes away from where their bodies were joined. It was then she turned and looked up at him, her eyes were soft and she smiled nervously, she tentatively waited for a reaction from him but he remained still. She then turned to look at their conjoined hands and slowly he felt her fingers release her grip and she started to slip her hand away. 

Without a thought, his body acted of its own accord and his hand reached out furiously to snatch hers back into his own. He didn’t need to look at Molly to know she was just as shocked at his reaction as he was of himself. His heart beat hard against his chest. Only the most spine-tingling cases had ever given him the reaction he was feeling right now. He felt Molly's hand tremble slightly against his own and once again his body acted like a foreign body had invaded and took control of his nervous system and squeezed her own reassuringly. 

They both turned to each other then and time seemed to freeze in that tube carriage. The old lady in the Aztec leggings reading a battered copy of 1984, the hipster teen tapping her Doc Martens against the metal railing and the couple who were practically copulating against the tube door. They all disappeared into a vacuum and now all that existed was him, Molly and their tightly joined limbs. 

"Well, Mr Holmes, you have officially surprised me." Her words didn't help the flow of blood currently pulsing hot and fast through him and they quickly cast their eyes back down to their hands after she spoke. 

"I hope I didn't disappoint this time." Despite the lack of control over his body, he was relieved to find his mind and tongue still worked. 

"Oh no, quite the opposite, Mr I-Hate-Public-Displays-Of-Affection." It was then that she took control of the situation again, when he felt the pad of her thumb stroke light circles against his skin. 

"Okay, you have made your point, it's not as repulsive as I assumed." His other hand then covered both of their joined ones in a bold move. "Although, as for the kissing and bum squeezing I would quite like to leave those to private displays of affection." He turned and whispered quietly in her ear. From the side on profile of her face he could see her cheeks flush a soft pink, reassured that the blood in her veins was flowing just as quickly as his own. 

"Well that can be arranged. Once you have taken me out for dinner." She turned her head, their faces now only centimeters apart and her eyes gleamed mischievously into his own at her courageous attempt to ask him out on a date. He was only annoyed that he hadn't gotten to it before her. 

"Well, I know the perfect place and conveniently it's right outside of an underground station." It had been a while since he had visited Angelo's. Plus, it would be nice to reassure his old Italian friend that himself and John were most definitely not 'gli amante' as Angelo had sufficiently put it. 

"So, not by taxi then?" Her expression remained light and impish, but she pulled back a little to study his full face as it now displayed a new emotion she had not seen him wear before. That and he gathered that as much as she wanted to move in closer, he knew Molly would not let their first kiss be in an over-crowded tube in the middle of the afternoon. This moment between them was too important for strangers and The Underground to witness. 

"They are resurfacing the road just a few yards down from the restaurant." She squeezed his hand in acknowledgment. "Plus, there is more time for hand holding if we take the tube."

**Author's Note:**

> 'gli amante' translates to lovers in Italian.  
> Hope you enjoyed this one guys.   
> I have a couple more currently in the pipeline, so hopefully I will have these uploaded in the next week.


End file.
